


Beyond the Scope

by htebazytook



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: First Time, Lawyer Boyfriends, M/M, PWP, Sacrilege, Season 17, Slash, Smut, canon typical mentions of rape and abuse, casefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htebazytook/pseuds/htebazytook
Summary: Carisi is apparently as relentless with seduction as he is with everything else.  Season 17 ish.





	Beyond the Scope

**Author's Note:**

> I know I’m way behind the curve with this fandom and this pairing, but I couldn’t watch another second of ADA Sassy Suspenders sparring with passionate prettyboy Carisi without spitting out a fic.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Don’t own, don’t profit.

*

“I don’t actually need your help with this.”

“Yeah I know,” Carisi says. “I’m just here for my own edification.”

“ ‘Edification’ ?” Barba raises his eyebrows. 

Carisi throws him a little glare. “Why do I get the feeling you’d be just as surprised if I said I know what two plus two is?”

Barba busies himself with shuffling the papers they’ve finished with and putting them aside. He indicates Carisi’s empty glass. “Another scotch?”

“Sure, Don Draper, why the hell not? I’m off the clock. Technically.” He drains his glass and hands it to Barba. “I mean if I wasn’t here I’d be studying for law school, anyway.”

“_You’re_ in law school? I’d no idea.”

Carisi smiles. “Ah, shut up.”

Barba finishes his own drink and strides across his office to get the decanter. The leather sofa squeaks when he sits back down next to Carisi and pours for him. “I know you’re off the clock. And I’ll say again that I don’t know if Olivia’s exactly okay with it. You do still have your day job to do.”

“Yeah, well, doing your grunt work makes my day job easier, so. Let’s get this done.”

SVU had caught on to Councilman Medici’s misdeeds quite by accident. A quick scan of his financials during another investigation had revealed that Bob Medici, who was an outspoken defender of ‘the sanctity of marriage’, had skimmed off reelection campaign funds to buy the silence of multiple high end rent boys. It certainly fell within SVU’s wheelhouse, but the problem was the massive amount of paperwork that needed to be acquired, read, logged into evidence, sent in duplicate and triplicate to about a dozen people at the DA’s office and a dozen more at NYPD. Barba really hadn’t had the energy to fend off Carisi’s unrelenting helpfulness, this time.

Carisi jots something onto a notepad, then sits back to massage his hand and sip at his scotch. “Y’know, I just don’t get this guy. If he had just been open about his sexuality in the first place this wouldn’t even be a scandal. It woulda been out of the news by Memorial Day.“

“Some people treat cognitive dissonance as a personal challenge.”

“I mean, twenty - hell, even ten years ago, I would get it. I mean, forget the shift in social attidutes - what about the fuckin’ internet? It’s _gonna_ get out eventually.”

“Yeah, well, narcissists are like that.” Barba finishes scanning a paragraph and sets his paper down. “Always certain they’re smarter than the rest of us.”

“The rest of us? You telling me you don’t think _you’re_ smarter than the rest of us?”

Carisi is slurring a little, and it’s starting to annoy him. “If I’m such a narcissist, maybe you’d rather not be my assistant.”

“Oh, assistant, now? I’m movin’ on up.” But Carisi looks distracted. After another minute he continues, “It’s weird. When I was a kid I never even considered if I mighta been gay. Like, it didn’t even occur to me I might wanna walk up to a guy and plant one on ‘im.”

“What a romantic.”

“I dunno - this line of work? I feel like I should at least reconsider different ways of being instead of resigning myself to women for life, you know?” He takes a drink. “Like, it didn’t even occur to me . . . “

Barba wonders what it must be like to have the time to wax poetic about one’s sexuality. He’s always been too busy being busy, always striving for the next rung up on that career ladder. It left little time for anything more serious than one night stands or the occasional ill-fated relationship attempt. He used to assume he was straight, too - they didn’t exactly cover that in Sunday school - but then a male teaching aide came on to him in undergrad and he started to branch out. These days Barba mostly showed up in bars he knew his colleagues didn’t frequent and picked up men because it felt easier to have unattached sexual transactions with them. The truth is, he doesn’t really see the point of a relationship anyway.

“What about you?” 

“Sorry?”

Carisi gestures at him broadly. “What’s your deal, anyway?”

“Maybe we should change the topic.”

“Wha’? Why? Oh come on, Barba. Listen, just answer me this: you ever kissed a man?”

Barba sighs resignedly. “I have kissed both men and women.”

“See, there we go! Now: which did ya like better?”

“Carisi, this is inappropriate.”

“Listen, come here. I just wanna tell ya something.”

“Carisi.”

“It’s fine, ‘s fine. I just wanna see something.” He won’t stop leaning closer to Barba. He’s bleary-eyed but earnest and he keeps licking his lips. Has he always had such sensual lips?

Barba tries to slow his heartbeat through sheer willpower. “You just want to see what it’s like?”

Carisi is already fiddling with Barba’s suspender with one hand, thigh pressed up against him. “I’m just curious . . . ”

So Barba leans the rest of the way in.

It takes a minute to figure out how to kiss each other - they both seem to want their mouths in the same position but the awkwardness of testing everything only makes it more exciting. Carisi laughs breathlessly in between the vague conversation of lips and the sound of it goes straight to Barba’s groin. Barba holds Carisi’s head still, changes the angle of the kiss in a way that makes him dizzy and makes Carisi moan into it. Carisi nips at Barba’s bottom lip and kisses him back steadily - his hair is crispy with product but he makes a pleased sound when Barba tugs at it to tilt his head a little more. It all slips deeper, long past the taste of single malt now and overtaken by heat and hammering pulses. 

It’s all too fast, and that realization breaks the spell for Barba. He pulls back, readjusts a tie that needs no readjusting, and avoids Carisi’s eyes. “This is pretty unseemly for an SVU detective, no?” His voice is about an octave lower than usual.

“I gotta say, you’re making ‘unseemly’ sound a lot like ‘sexy’, counselor.” Carisi reaches out to graze the backs of his nails up Barba’s bared forearm, clothed bicep, the side of his neck . . . 

“Conduct unbecoming, then?” Barba asks unsteadily. 

“Yeah.” Carisi scoots closer. “But that’s okay.”

“Yeah . . . ” Barba closes his eyes against the feeling of Carisi’s mouth on his neck. Hot breath and soft lips and the smell of him. Carisi turns Barba’s face and kisses his mouth. He isn’t shy with his tongue and it slides along Barba’s insistently. The grip on Barba’s thigh tightens when he starts sucking on Carisi’s tongue and he wants to grab Carisi’s hand and drag it up to alleviate his straining cock, just for a second, just a little bit . . .

Somehow, he tears himself away. “You’re drunk,” Barba pants, trying to make himself care. “And I’m getting there.”

Carisi groans. “C’mon, it was just one drink.”

“One and a half.”

“Okay, but I’m not, you know, _impaired_ . . . ”

“You really think that’d hold up in court?”

“I may not have passed the bar yet but I betcha I could make some decent counter arguments. I’m seeing some pretty compelling evidence you’re on board with this, too . . . ” But Carisi does move away from him, keeping his hands to himself on the other side of the sofa and letting out a massive sigh. “But you’re still right. Goddammit.”

Barba stands up and heads to his desk as gracefully as he can (which isn’t very). He digs a water bottle out of a drawer and takes a long drink while Carisi does some kind of meditative breathing exercise. Barba sits safely behind the desk and pretends to organize papers, studiously ignoring any nearby horny detectives. 

Eventually Carisi stands up in Barba’s periphery. “See you tomorrow?”

Barba does look at him now and immediately regrets it: Carisi’s mouth is bruised and there’s stubble burn across his chin. “Yep.”

“Okay.” Carisi offers a wan little smile and heads out the door. “ ‘Til next time, counselor.”

*

Benson closes her office door and gestures for Barba to sit. “All right, counselor. Where are we on Medici?”

“The councilman’s records were very extensive _and_ very redundant, but not insurmountable.” Barba sits down across from her.

Benson nods. “Okay. Are we looking at a plea?”

“Well, that depends on the size of Medici’s cojones.” He shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine. Where are you on the campaign donors?”

“Rollins is looking into them. Carisi was gonna take another run at the wife but he hasn’t shown up ye - oh, speak of the devil.”

Barba turns in time to see Carisi appear in the squad room. He shoots Barba a knowing look while he’s rolling up his sleeves and has the nerve to smirk a little too. Barba feels suddenly hot under the collar.

Benson gets up and Barba can’t very well sit alone in her office twiddling his thumbs so he follows. They meet Carisi at his desk, Barba hanging back a little. Tutuola moseys over from his own desk.

“Welcome to the party,” Tutuola tells him.

“Sorry, guys,” Carisi says. “Up too late, snoozed the alarm and then hit a gridlock in Hell’s Kitchen. You know, one of those kinda days . . . ”

“Uh huh,” Benson says. “Look, it’s great that you’re willing to stick around after your shift, but I can’t approve any more overtime this month. Just let me know when you’ve got too much on your plate next time, okay?”

“Oh no no - I don’t need the OT. I was just helping the counselor here with paperwork for a couple hours.”

Benson looks to Barba. “Really? How’d _that_ go?”

Barba opens his mouth - 

“Real good, lieutenant, real good,” Carisi interjects. He indicates Barba with his thumb. “Working under this guy is great. Last night was quite the education.”

Tutuola raises his eyebrows.

“Oh,” Benson says. “Okay, then. Thanks for the update, Carisi.”

Carisi waves it off. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Now I’m guessing you want me to get on that interview?”

“You are guessing right.”

“You got it, Lieu.” Carisi makes a special detour to clap Barba on the shoulder and say, “See ya later, counselor,” before he leaves.

Barba is sure that Tutuola will split his face in half with that grin. 

Benson bends down to catch Barba’s eye. “Well? Anything else?”

“Uh . . . no. No. Just, uh, keep me posted okay? Thanks, Liv.” Barba ducks away and follows Carisi out of the squad room. He catches up to him in the hallway and pulls him aside.

“Oh, hey,” Carisi says, unruffled. “You think I should serve Mrs Medici a warrant too, just to cover our asses?” 

“Is this what passes for professionalism at SVU now?” Barba hisses.

Carisi either is genuinely confused or he’s having way too much fun playing at it. “What? You didn’t think we were just gonna pretend nothing happened last night, did you? ‘Cause we’re not.”

Barba glances around and it makes Carisi laugh. He grabs Carisi’s arm and drags him into an empty interview room. “Keep your voice down.”

Carisi raises his eyebrows and laughs again. “Woah woah, take a chill pill, okay?”

Barba exhales slowly. “This is neither the time nor the place.”

Carisi purses his lips and considers it. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He crosses his arms but he doesn’t seem cowed or offended. “I’ll try to keep it ‘professional’ at the office, counselor. We good?” He pats Barba’s arm on his way out the door.

Barba nods to the empty room and gets the distinct feeling he’s missed something. “All good.”

*

Barba is meeting with Medici’s cabal of lawyers when he gets the text. He has his phone out in case Rollins finds more leverage to convince them to plead out. Even without it, Medici is the kind of guy who’ll do just about anything to keep his mug off of Rachel Maddow.

> _Speaking of timing i’m off this weekend. I was gonna make my grandmother’s parmigiana but that’s a lot of trouble just for one person. What do you say you come over and help me finish it_

Barba frowns at the text and turns his phone over to concentrate on the plea deal. It only takes a few more minutes of pretending to negotiate before the lawyers finally concede to a felony charge. He checks his phone again in the elevator: 

> _🍝 = 😊_

Barba can’t help chuckling. 

> _Detective you are a twelve year old._

> _At least i’m not a grumpy old man_

Some people join Barba on the elevator and he edges back into a corner to text back: 

> _The case is over, as far as your team is concerned. It’s just politics now._

> _No shit Sherlock. Just come over when you’re done with Medici’s goons_

> _What if I already have plans tonight?_

> _lol_

And then, 

> _See you soon_

*

Carisi’s apartment is nicer and neater than Barba had expected it to be, which makes him realize it’s probably time to stop assuming things about him. No wine or candles on the table and the baseball game on TV isn’t exactly Kenny G - for all intents and purposes the stage is set for platonic socialization. Carisi has been known to cook for other coworkers, so it’s not too much of a stretch. He seems nonchalant enough in jeans and a soft white T-shirt.

“So,” Barba says, hands on his hips. “Off for the weekend, eh?”

“Yep. Liv wants me to take a break after doing double duty on the Medici case.” He shrugs. “Whatever, the game’s on so it works for me.” 

“Yes, the game. Of course. Is the food ready yet?”

Carisi gestures dismissively toward the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah. I got it in the oven covered with Reynolds Wrap, it’ll only take a minute to heat up.”

“Okay, then,” Barba says. Silence, and they continue to stand awkwardly in the foyer. “Sounds good.”

Carisi still hasn’t moved. “Yeah. Hey, so, quick question first: do you wanna kiss again?”

Barba blinks. “Come again?”

“I wanna kiss you,” Carisi explains patiently. “You want that?”

“Uh, well, see it’s not - it’s just that - ” 

“Just a yes or no answer, please,” Carisi says, absolutely impish.

Barba snorts, sure he’s about to devise a nice snide response but the combination of fatigue and Carisi’s earnestness and the last twenty years of courtroom etiquette make him answer: “Yes.”

Carisi grins. “There we go,” he says, and seizes Barba by his tie and yanks him in for a kiss.

It’s gentle at first. Carisi smells different than last time, like he’s just washed his face. Sweet and soapy but the aroma of cooking still clings to his shirt. It’s not a heart-pounding kiss, just the calculated movement of mouths until Carisi moans softly and a switch goes off. Barba takes Carisi by the shoulders and crowds him back against the door.

Carisi smiles (Barba can feel it) and slices rough fingers into his hair. He bends his knees a little to account for his height and Barba feels up his thigh and ass and undulating shoulder. Carisi’s hips tilt forward and he breaks the kiss on a gasp.

“Okay,” Carisi croaks. “Ahem, _okay_. We’re taking this to the bedroom now, capisce?”

“Did you really just say ‘capisce’?”

“Did you really wear a three piece suit to dinner at my apartment?” Carisi’s unbuttons Barba’s vest and slips his hands underneath, moving around to the small of Barba’s back and resting warmly there. “How much did this cost by the way?

“Why? Are you gonna be careful because it’s expensive?”

Carisi smirks and tugs Barba’s tie off for emphasis. “Hell no.”

Carisi’s bedroom is right off the living room. He crosses to the other side of the bed in the dark to turn on a lamp, then dims it down to an intimate brownish glow. 

“Very seductive,” Barba says.

“Why thank you.”

The bedroom is about 90% bed, but the walls are a nice light blue that makes it feel bigger. Barba shrugs out of his jacket and lays it on the dresser, above which hangs an enormous silver crucifix.

“Oh jeez,” Barba says. “Literally. Uh . . . you okay with Him watching?

“C’mon, Barba. You know He’s always watching. Might as well live it up.”

“Sin now, say a couple Hail Mary’s later?”

But Carisi doesn’t seem to be listening. He discards his shirt in one smooth motion before descending on Barba. Barba’s vest falls away and Carisi pushes the suspenders off his shoulders but the shirt buttons give him trouble - Carisi fumbles with them for a good minute before grunting impatiently and telling him, “You do it. Just, all of it. Fuck Armani, anyway.”

“Westwood, actually.” Barba sits on the bed to take his shoes and socks off, then stands and pushes the rest down and kicks it away.

Carisi’s eyes rake over his nakedness, dark and heavy-lidded. “Whatever.” He draws Barba back into a kiss with a shock of skin on skin and his jean-clad cock digging into Barba’s stomach.

“You smell awesome,” Carisi mumbles. “Your cologne used to bug the hell outta me but now I fucking _love_ it.” He’s squirming out of the jeans now, steps back and gets his boxers off. 

Barba catches his hands. “Sit on the bed.”

“Mm.” Carisi sits on the edge of the mattress. His cock curls up against his body and his chest lifts shallowly with each breath. Barba has to bend down to kiss him from this angle, which is a welcome reprieve for his neck. Carisi spreads his legs to give Barba more room, tongue delving languidly into his mouth. 

When Carisi breaks the kiss his voice is raspy: “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Listen, the thing is that I wanna fuck.”

“Agreed,” Barba says against his chin.

“No I mean, I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh.” Barba shakes some of the lust off to consider. “It’s not really an impulse buy kind of thing, Carisi. I mean, there’s a lot of preparation that goes into it so maybe right now we can just - ”

“I’m not a fuckin’ idiot, Barba, I was fucking around with dildos beore you got here. There’s lube and condoms in the nightstand.”

The mental image of Carisi opening his ass up while texting him is really not helping Barba to stay coherent. “We should _really_ be on a first name basis at this point.”

Carisi snickers. “Don’t spoil the fun, counselor.” He scoots back on the bed and leans over to the nightstand. He tosses a handful of condoms in Barba’s direction and retrieves the lube. 

Barba sifts through the little colorful packets. “Seriously, though. Have you ever done this before?”

Carisi rolls his eyes. “Can’t a guy be curious?” He’s easing a finger inside himself, and his voice gets tighter: “Or bi-curious, as the case may be . . . ”

Barba’s jaw’s gone slack. “Uh huh.”

“Hey, take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Barba laughs a little breathlessly. He’s having trouble processing what the condom wrappers say so he just picks the one that looks the most familiar and hopes it isn’t some kind of strawberry flavored nonsense.

Carisi grunts and Barba glances up to see he’s got two fingers in past the knuckles now, looking dazed and staring directly at Barba’s erection. “C’mere, you.”

Barba doesn’t; he pulls Carisi closer to the edge of the bed until he falls back onto his elbows, wide-eyed.

“Let me,” Barba tells him. He spits on his fingers and eases them inside, curling until Carisi gasps and bears down. Carisi’s cock is flush against his stomach, half hard and leaking gorgeously at the tip so Barba smears that around with his thumb. Carisi mutters something and falls the rest of the way back onto the bed. 

Barba drops to his knees to lick up the shaft, then back down the side to suck at the balls for a minute. Back up again and he can feel Carisi hardening under his tongue. He finger fucks him carefully until his body relaxes, then kisses his hipbone and climbs up to kiss his mouth. Carisi _mmm_’s encouragingly and bucks against his fingers. Barba adds a third and can’t get enough of the way Carisi writhes underneath him after that.

Carisi makes a frustrated sound. “Where’s the damn condom?”

Barba rolls away onto his back and scrambles to retrieve it. He wipes his hands on the comforter to get a grip on the stupid slippery foil and puts the condom on. 

Carisi is stroking himself absently. “Uh. How do you wanna do this?”

Barba catches himself staring again, has to shake his head to clear it. “How flexible are you?”

“I don’t know.” He laughs. “I don’t care. Let’s find out.”

Barba nods. He steals some pillows and piles them up under Carisi’s ass. It’s not enough though, and he looks around the bedroom for something else but comes up empty. Carisi disappears into the living room and returns with more pillows and eventually a tower is constructed. Carisi balances precariously on it - back arched and head flung back so that he looks like a fucking sacrificial offering. Barba’s erection had flagged, but it’s coming back now in full force. He coats himself hasily with lube and climbs up onto the bed.

He slicks Carisi’s cock too and strokes it lightly, relishing the way he shudders and tries to nudge his hips up. Barba smears the remainder of the lube over Carisi’s hole and rubs the head of his cock against it, pushes in slowly and watches Carisi’s eyes shut and his forehead crease. Massaging the taut muscles of Carisi’s thigh, lifting it up a bit to push further inside. He listens to Carisi’s measured breathing and prays he’s not about to come from just the initial exquisite heat of his body.

“Okay?” Barba asks.

Carisi nods rapidly, curls his other leg around Barba to urge him closer. One errant strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. Barba holds him down and thrusts the rests of the way in.

Carisi exhales heavily. “Oh wow. Wow, that’s a lot. _Shit_ . . . ”

Barba doesn’t want to go slow any more and he trusts that Carisi will speak up if it’s too much. He finds a good, solid rhythm and sticks with that, watching and feeling Carisi’s body slowly stop resisting it. Carisi’s hairline is damp and his plush appetizing mouth falls open a little on every thrust.

Barba drives in deeper now. “You like that?”

“Yeah, yeah . . . ” He braces himself against the headboard with one hand while the other twists in the sheets. “God, yeah.”

Barba reaches out to touch his panting mouth. “Do you ever shut up?”

Carisi laughs and shakes his head and finally looks at him. “Guess not. Hey uh - _ah_ \- right there is fuckin’ good.” He bears down on Barba’s cock in perfect tandem with the next thrust. “_Fuck_, Rafael.”

Barba fucks him faster and the momentum pushes Carisi off the pillows, throwing them thrillingly close together. Carisi gasps at the weight of him while Barba kisses the side of his neck, lifts his hips up to shove back inside and Carisi just groans and twines his legs around his back. 

“Oh _fuck_,” Carisi gasps, and it vibrates against Barba’s lips. “I dunno what you did but just . . . keep doin’ it. Fuck.”

Barba could come just by listening to this so he tries to block him out. He slows his thrusts to savor it and that gets Carisi clawing at his arms and begging nonsensically into his hair. He feels his orgasm building, massive and relentless, and Carisi’s nails seem to dig it out of him. Presses his face into the mattress and rides it out. 

Carisi wriggles a hand between them before Barba is even finished. He fists himself hard and vigorously and soon he’s coming too. They lay there panting and sweating on each other for long moments until Barba summons the energy to pull out and get off of him. He ties the condom off and drops it somewhere on the floor. Carisi’s come is all over the both of them.

“Should I get a towel or . . . ?”

“Nah, fuck it.” Carisi pulls up the edge of the comforter and wipes them off lazily. They stumble to wobbly feet to yank the comforter off the bed before settling back onto the sheets, on their backs and staring at the ceiling together. The bedroom feels cozy and very far away from the real world.

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand, detective.”

Carisi snickers. “What’s that?”

“Is there really a homemade meal in the oven or was that just for the honey trap?”

Carisi pats Barba’s leg. “I did make food. And it really is my nonna’s recipe. If you’re nice I’ll even tell you the secret ingredient.”

“I think I’ve been a _fairly_ nice guest so far, don’t you?”

“Eh, we’ll see. Table manners are pretty important . . . ”

Ten minutes and two perfunctory showers later, Carisi heats up the food and they eat it in their boxers in front of the TV. Afterward Barba drags a blanket around them and Carisi lays against his shoulder while they both nod off.

*

Councilman Medici pleads out before a judge, and SVU moves on to other cases. Barba isn’t even called into the precinct for another two days, so by the time Benson texts him he’s unusually restless. He has run out of paperwork to catch up on, and he hasn’t heard from Carisi at all. Of course, Carisi is probably dividing his time off between his sisters and their families, so it’s perfectly reasonable that he’d want to give them his full attention. It’s not like Barba is waiting around to hear from him like a lovesick teenager. He is an adult, and that would be stupid. It’s just sex and Barba is just fine with that.

Half the squad room is dark when Barba enters. It’s too early for normal people to be awake, but Benson’s light is on and she’s halfway through her first cup of coffee. She beckons Barba over to her office. 

She gets him up to speed on the new case Rollins had caught in the ER. The victim had disclosed to a nurse, but refused a rape kit. Then an overzealous doctor had taken it upon herself to do the rape kit anyway.

“So _now_ the victim is suing the doctor for unwanted sexual contact, violation of her civil liberties, the works.” Benson pinches the bridge of her nose. “Not to mention the fact that we still need to track down rapist number one.”

“Whew,” Barba says. “There was a similar case in Ohio if I remember correctly . . . “

“Do what you gotta do, because the hospital’s risk management team is preparing for battle.”

“I can imagine.” Barba taps his fingers on his knee. “Actually, do you think I could borrow Carisi again? To help with research?” 

“Don’t you have paralegals for that?”

“Yes, but - I mean . . . only if you can spare him, Liv. A second set of eyes can be helpful from time to time and - ”

Benson holds her hands up. “It’s fine by me. I just thought you hated him.”

“Yeah, well.” Barba shrugs. "He’s growing on me.”

The rest of the squad trickles in slowly and Barba lets Carisi get settled in before he walks up to his desk. “Good morning, detective.”

Carisi beams conspicuously up at him but Barba finds he doesn’t mind. “Fancy finding you here, counselor.”

“I was just leaving, actually. Perhaps you could walk me out?”

Carisi grins. “Yeah, I’m early anyway.”

The 8 AM rush hasn’t started yet so the hallway is deserted. The elevator is just as empty. It’s hard to tell who starts it, but as soon as the elevator doors close they move forward by the same impulse to kiss each other. Carisi fists his hands in Barba’s coat and Barba melts into him almost immediately. When Carisi pulls back his eyes are brightly blue and happy.

The bell dings. Carisi curses but steps back to let more passengers on. Everybody is glued to their phones and nobody notices Carisi leaning into Barba or the way Barba’s arm slides around his waist to keep him there. Carisi softens against him, and Barba thinks he could get used to this.

*


End file.
